Soul Mate
by slytherin-until-i-die
Summary: Gale's lips brush across mine, slowly, carefully, so gently that nobody could call it a kiss. His breath comes rapidly, warm against my skin and, without thinking, I tilt my head up toward him. "Say you love me, Katniss." Galeniss. Review?
1. Chapter 1

This is my first ever attempt to write a Hunger Games story, so be gentle with me. This is set somewhere during Catching Fire, not entirely sure whereabouts... I'm bored so I'm writing, okay?

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**KATNISS**

"Gale?" I call to the empty space in front of me, currently populated only by tall cedars and some kind of scrubby undergrowth and definitely not, as I had hoped, my best friend. A twig crunches somewhere behind me and I wheel around, my breath hitching in my throat, my long and uncharacteristically messy braid whipping forward and striking the side of my face. The woods are still. Nothing moves. Everything stays silent.

"Gale?" I whisper, my cautious, low voice laced with uncertainty. Where has he gone? Why has he left me here alone? I know that there's something here, something nearby. I feel foreign eyes burning into me, searing menacing marks onto my flesh from an unknown location. These woods are my salvation, my haven, my personal sanctuary, but today, they feel all wrong. Another twig snaps. A pile of dying leaves rustles. My hand flies to the sheath of arrows behind my head, but I do not feel reassured. My confidence with the glorious wooden bow carved years ago by my father wanes entirely. I don't feel like a hunter. I feel like prey. And it's all because my partner, my best friend, my _soul mate_, has disappeared among the trees. With no one watching my back, I feel isolated, inaccessible and, above all, more vulnerable than ever.

Then suddenly a pair of strong hands find my waist, slender from a lifetime of hunting every day, and lift me effortlessly into the air.

"Gale!" I shout as I hit out at his muscled shoulders pathetically with my fists, but the only response I get is his laughter. He hoists me up higher and throws me over his shoulder in a haphazard fireman's lift. I stop resisting and relax, my body slumping and becoming a dead weight on top of him. This quickly proves not to be a problem.

"Always so stubborn, Catnip," he laughs, lowering one shoulder so that I fall forward, screaming all the way. But before I can even approach the hard dirt, he manfully swings my legs upward and curls me into his arms. I sigh, relieved.

"Did you honestly think I'd drop you?" he asks, lowering himself down onto the crook of a curved tree trunk and pulling me into his lap. I turn my face to his. A lightning storm rages in his deep grey eyes and the aroma of his skin so close to mine is laced with fresh air, wood smoke and the cologne I bought him from the Hob for his nineteenth birthday. The combination of the two means I have to fight to remain coherent and able to string words together to make sentences.

"Wouldn't put it past you," I rib him good-naturedly. We sit in silence for a moment, and I stare up into the sky. The sun's position startles me.

"Shit," I mutter, sitting upright and attempting to stand, but Gale's hands tighten around my waist. "It's getting late," I offer by way of explanation.

I catch Gale's deep, irritated sigh as he releases me and I find my way to my feet. His expression has become surly. I instantly work out what the problem is. I know him too well, and have done for too long, to not understand. I sit down beside him, making sure we don't touch.

"He's my fiancé, Gale," I say. "I kind of have a duty to go back to him before it gets dark. I don't want him to worry about me and do something stupid. You know what Peeta's like."

"Yeah, I do." Gale leans forward toward me. "I know exactly what he's like. He's in love with you, Katniss, and you and I both know it."

I don't have anything to say, so instead, I take his hand and pull it into my lap. The skin of his long fingers is rough from hunting and working in the mines. I turn it over and interlace my fingers with his. I stare at the ground and say nothing. My eyes close, but I can feel his on me and anger suddenly wells up inside my chest, spreading out to my arms and legs, making my face grow hot. For a second I try to breathe, but I lose control.

"What do you want me to do, huh?" I ask, unintentionally raising my voice, springing to my feet and placing my hands on my hips. "Do you want me to just break everything off with him? Try to go back to how we were before?" I shake my head, tears stinging my eyes. "I can't do that, Gale! Don't you realise what would happen? They would kill him! They'd kill Peeta, my mother... Prim..." I stare at the horizon, not really seeing anything. "Gale, they'd kill you."

"Katniss, don't you get it?" he shouts, his own anger suddenly evident on his handsome, chiselled face. "I don't care! I don't care if they kill me!"

"Don't you dare say that," I spit out at him, taking a step closer. My eyes narrow. "Don't ever think like that. Think of your family, Gale. Think of Posy. Would you let them starve?"

Gale doesn't answer. He just glares at the ground, his hands shaking with fury.

"I don't care if they kill me," he mutters after several endless seconds. "Katniss." I continue to stare at my feet as he closes the gap between us in two strides, leaves crunching under his boots. He lifts my chin with his fingertips, forcing me to look up at him and meet his eye. A single, traitorous tear rolls down my cheek as his eyes bore into mine.

"I don't know what you want me to say," I whisper, almost inaudibly, as Gale brushes away my tear with the side of his index finger.

He leans down toward me and suddenly our faces are so close that our noses touch. I close my eyes again, guilt swelling up within me, flooding my insides. I love Peeta, I tell myself over and over again. I love Peeta, and I'm going to marry him. I love Peeta. I love him.

Gale's lips brush across mine, slowly, carefully, so gently that nobody could call it a kiss. His breath comes rapidly, warm against my skin and, without thinking, I tilt my head up toward him.

"Say you love me, Katniss," he murmurs against my lips. "Say you love me like I love you."

I feel his hands slip around my waist, pulling me closer so that every inch of our bodies is touching. I don't resist.

"I didn't know..." I try, my hands snaking slowly upwards around his neck, my fingers tangling in his silky, dark hair. I've never touched Gale like this before – I've never had a reason to. He's been my hunting partner for several years, but have I always clandestinely known there was more to it than that? _Of course I have_. _Of course I knew._

"If you marry Peeta, I don't care if they kill me. Because that'll mean my chance... or any chance we ever could have had is gone. And I couldn't live with that."

"Gale..." I protest as he moves back from me slightly, his grip on my waist loosening.

"So they can kill me." He throws his hands up, emotion flickering across his face. "I can't live without you, Katniss Everdeen, and if that doesn't work for you, then..."

"Gale, just kiss me," I murmur, and he crushes his lips to mine hungrily, desperately, his body pushing against mine until my back hits the wide trunk of a tree. I feel the palms of his hands flatten on the trunk either side of my head, locking me in place, holding me prisoner in his arms. But I don't complain. Our bodies fit together perfectly like corresponding pieces of a jigsaw, like we had both been created for each other, to be together, simply meant to do this forever.

"Katniss..." he whispers as I tilt my head back and lean against the tree. Gale's lips move from my own to the corner of mouth before showering kisses along my jaw line, my neck, my now-exposed collarbone. "3 words..." He reaches down and hitches my leg up around his waist. "Eight letters..." He ravishes my neck, kissing and nuzzling, causing me to shudder. I moan when he nips territorially at my pulse point, the pleasure-laced pain assuring me that there will be a mark there in the morning. "Say it and I'm yours, Katniss. Just say it."

I don't say it. Instead, I capture his lips with mine once more, pulling him around and up against the tree so that our positions are reversed. I stop for a moment and stare into his eyes, our faces mere millimetres apart, and in that moment, I hear our heartbeats thudding loudly, rapidly, keeping perfect time with one another.

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A/N: Go on, review me, you know you want to.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Well, guys, you wore me down, so here I am with chapter two!

Like I said, be gentle with me. Galeniss are my favourite Hunger Games ship and I hope that I do them justice in this story – please, PLEASE let me know if you think I'm not. And well done for picking up on the Gossip Girl reference back there, I couldn't resist that subtle bit of fangirling ;)

Anyway, here goes! Chapter two...

/

I have no idea how much time passes before I come to my senses again, at least enough to realise what I'm doing and the potential implications of mine and Gale's actions. The sun has shifted considerably in the sky, bathing our clearing in blood red light and doubling the lengths of our shadows and the trees around us. I'm certain Peeta will be wondering where I am by now, but the awkward questions I know will ensue when I arrive home do nothing to motivate me to leave. My sense of loyalty to the boy whose life I saved several months ago, however, eventually wins out.

"Gale..." I murmur, breaking our kiss, my hands balling into fists on his chest.

"What's the problem?" he whispers rhetorically before capturing my lips once more with his own, lowering himself back down onto the flat part of the curved tree trunk and pulling me with him. "This is what you want, right?"

"No, I don't want this," I say for my own benefit just as much as his, but Gale's face shows that he has picked up on how quickly I answered his question.

"You're lying," he accuses, but all of the anger I saw earlier is gone from his face.

I straighten up, smoothing down my hair and clothes, choosing not to dispute his claim. If I've leant anything from years of hunting with Gale, stalking the woods around District 12 for prey and being forced to make executive decisions as a pair, a team, I know that I can't possibly win an argument with him. So instead, I bite my lip and eye him conspiratorially.

"Walk me home?" I ask coolly, picking up my bow that I left leaning against a nearby tree and swinging the sheath of arrows back over my shoulder.

Gale stands up and sighs. "Of course."

We begin our walk back toward the fence in silence, the only sound, a loud, hollow rustling, coming from the yellowing leaves on the high boughs of the trees. Unfortunately, my face is too hot and my head is still spinning from the kiss, and the toe of my left boot catches on a gnarled root as I hike over the rough terrain. I throw my arms out in front of me to brace myself for contact with the ground, but Gale's impeccably-trained reactions allow him to catch me before I feel a thing – with one hand on my wrist, the other supporting the small of my back, he helps me steadily to my feet and holds me until I regain my balance.

I hear him say something under his breath that sounds awfully like a sarcastic "What's gotten into you today?", but I decide to leave it, not wanting to start another argument.

"Thanks," I mutter. I try to continue walking, but Gale's hand still forms a manacle around my wrist. He's staring down at my hand, and for a minute I'm struck by intense confusion. Then I realise. The look in his eyes forces everything to become clear. His shoulders slump and he slowly, carefully, delicately traces the glistening diamond set in white gold that adorns my ring finger. His jaw falls slack and he quickly withdraws his hand, which, alongside its counterpart, has balled into a fist.

"When did he give you this?" he asks quietly, his breath coming in deep, controlled movements. I've never seen him have to fight so hard to remain in check before, so I pull the hand with the engagement ring behind my back and lay the other gently on his forearm. He flinches away. "Katniss," he says slowly. "When did he give you this?"

"Does it matter?" I wonder aloud after a pause, trying as hard as possible not to allow the annoyance at my best friend's blatant lack of concern for my feelings to creep into my voice. "You know Peeta and I are... engaged."

"I didn't realise he'd made it _official_." Gale spits the last word and walks away from me, his eyes on the ground.

I feel the colour start rising in my cheeks and inadvertently stamp my foot on the floor in irritation, excruciatingly forcing memories of watching girls throwing temper tantrums in the terrible soap operas broadcast in the Capitol to resurface. I take a deep breath and follow swiftly behind him.

"Gale, you do realise that pretty much everything is for show, right?" I ask, standing in front of him. When he makes it clear he isn't stopping, I continue to walk backwards in his wake. "When Snow offered to pay for our magnificent wedding in the Capitol, we could hardly say no!"

"What do you mean, 'pretty much everything'?" Gale stops dead, his eyes narrowed icily.

In all honestly, I hadn't even thought until I'd said it. I shrug indignantly.

"You know, Katniss, you're a damn good actress, that's what I think," he says, pushing past me and taking off further into the woods. My mouth falls open and I just stand there, watching Gale, my eyes wide, as he disappears among the trees, leaving tracks in the undergrowth where he treads.

"Gale!" I yell after him, not moving. I raise my eyebrows, tap my foot and quickly realise he isn't come back for me this time. "Gale, you ass!" I pause uncertainly before huffing to myself and going after him. I run for a solid ten minutes without catching sight of him once, then I begin to get sceptical about whether or not he planned on returning to the Seam at all. _He's probably hiding out in the woods, _I tell myself, suddenly feeling furious with him. But why? For storming off? For his harsh words? Or am I only angry because I know everything he said is true? I follow his trail until I reach the electric fence but, for some bizarre reason, when I reach it, the footprints in the scrubby grass end abruptly, as if Gale had taken flight and flown away, vanished into thin air. My eyebrows pull together in bewilderment. Then I notice something I had unconsciously overlooked during my previous pursuit.

Where Gale's tracks end, a single footprint is set a very different angle from the rest; two-dimensionally horizontal from where I am standing rather than vertical. Then the prints continue in this fashion in the direction from which I just came. So understated. So easy to miss at first glance. _Gale turned back, _I realise.

Now that I've noticed this subtle change in footprints, the fresh set of tracks is all I can see on the ground as I sprint back into the woods. The trail leads along the same route as the original Seam-bound one for a good while, and I begin to wonder whether he had either returned to the same clearing we had been in earlier, or whether my mind had simply misinterpreted the shape of the prints on the ground in the first place. But then it suddenly veers to the left and, gasping at this breakthrough, I break into a sprint. My head whirls as I scan the trail with my eyes.

The trail ends at the foot of a tall oak, this time with no sign of a reconsideration of direction. I crouch down and touch the last footprint, shaking my head in confusion. _He can't have just disappeared, _I try to reassure myself. I stand up straight and feel my pulse race, suddenly terrified about Gale's whereabouts. I breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth as slowly, therapeutically, as I can manage, but I can't shake off the images my mind so frequently conjures up of screaming, horrified people being lifted into Capitol hovercrafts and consequently taken to a place where they will never be seen again. Maybe the Peacekeepers have finally had enough. Maybe we've overstepped the mark with our illegal game hunting habits. Gale could be halfway to the Capitol by now. _What if I'm next?_

I scream when strong hands grab me under my arms and hoist my body upwards into the air, and a familiar hand claps over my mouth.

"Did you really feel it was necessary to scream like that?" I hear as I make contact with and find myself sitting on a dark but strong tree branch beside my best friend.

"You're such an idiot!" I shout, but the evident relief in my voice makes me sound far from serious. "Why would you do that, huh? You scared me to death."

Gale just looks at me – despite his mischievous smile, I can't help but detect the sadness in his demeanour. I'm suddenly aware of how high up we are. We must be six or seven feet above the ground.

"How the hell did you get me up here?" I muse aloud, holding on to the branch either side of me.

"Easily," Gale says impassively. "Watch." He places both hands firmly around the branch that we're sat on, leans down and locks his feet around the wood. Before I even understand what's happened, he's thrown himself forward, unclenched his vice-like grip on the branch and is hanging down from the tree, his head only two or three feet from the ground. My mouth falls open.

"Oh," I murmur.

"Yeah." He flips himself back up onto the branch more quickly than I knew was possible and gazes across at me.

"You're like a monkey," I tease, shuffling closer to him and turning so that our torsos are facing each other. He doesn't laugh, merely stays silent and watches as the sun sets over the distant treetops.

I reach down and take his hand, rubbing small circles into the back of his thumb with my own. After a moment of passivity, he interlocks his fingers with mine. I smile at his compliance and, without thinking, lean forward and give him a gentle kiss on the lips. I surprise myself, but apparently not as much as I surprise him with this action.

"Katniss," he whispers, catching a few loose strands of hair and brushing them back behind my ear. "Why did you do that?" he asks.

"Because... it felt right," I tell him honestly. I pause. "Is that weird?"

Gale laughs once, a beautiful sound, the arrival of which lights up every corner of his charming face. "No, Catnip." He pulls our interlaced hands onto the branch between us, bear sections of our skin only centimetres apart. "Not weird at all." And with that he kisses me again, and I let go of thoughts and words.

/

Enjoy it? Hate it? Let me know!


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